


The First Lost Boy

by felix_pan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Backstory, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 11:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felix_pan/pseuds/felix_pan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felix felt dead. Felix wanted nothing more than to be dead. He was going to die alone, scared, and pathetic. He wanted to scream and swear and cry more, but he did not have the energy to. So he sat there, falling in and out of consciousness, listening to the rain fall around him. <br/>Felix was utterly alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Lost Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I was just dying for some Felix/Pan backstory and I don't think ouat is gonna give it to us sadly. So I did some of my own!

   The clouds gathered around the sky, casting a shadow over the field. The boys sighed in relief. Rain was coming and that meant work was stopping. The sun was beginning to be too hot to bare out in these damn fields. They wished it got so hot, the fields would just catch fire and burn to nothing. But that would just mean to go out and dig up those damned ashes and replace them with more work.

   Their hands worked at a regular pace, pulling corn off the stocks, removing bugs and weeds, placing in more soil. Usually they would go fast, but the rain was a blessing, so they enjoyed it. The boys laughed and poked fun at each other, just relieved the work was almost over for today. But one didn’t. His hands went so fast, they started dropping things, trembling.

 

  “Jesus christ, Felix. Take a break will ya?” The boy stood over him, using the shovel as a crutch. He ignored the boy for a moment, just staring at the ground.

 

  “Did they say to stop?” He questioned, his voice nearly silent. He looked at his hands, slightly shaking and caked in dirt. The usual.

 

   “Oh, I get it. Ya’ worried papa’s gonna come out and be like ‘Aye James boy, if ya ain’t digging in the fields, dig ya self a grave!’.” The boy mocked, others gathering around, snickering. Felix sneered at him. How dare he used his name. Felix shot up to his feet, tall and intimidating.

 

  “Don’t use my real name, ever.” He growled, gripping the small switchblade in his hand. His knuckles turned white, and his hand throbbed. He hated that cursed name. Only two people called him that. And the field boys knew it, that’s why they called him Felix. He thought the name was a joke, meaning “lucky one”, but it was better than his birth name.

 

  The boy peered at him, his eyes sharp. “And what are you gonna do about it, bitch boy?” The other around his cackled and jumped around, cheering the kid on.

  The boy’s name was John, but Felix preferred calling him ‘Rat’. It symbolized him. A lot of the others called him Rat, simply because he looked like one. His hair was brown, and always greasy and dirty. You could practically see the bugs crawling. Though Rat was skinny, he ate like a monster, picking corn off the stalks and shoving mouthfuls in his filthy food hole he called a mouth.

  Felix stayed silent, keeping that fierce look on his face. He wasn’t going to do anything about it, but he wouldn’t let them know that. They already did though. They knew Felix’s weakness, and they used it against him. So Felix did what he could and just ignored them, staying quiet.

 

  The bell rung, interrupting the silence between them. Rat rolled his eyes, but a devilish smile slithered across his face. It was time for supper, Rat wasn’t missing that.

  “See ya later, James.” Rat winked, and shoved Felix to the ground. The boys cheered and laughed at him, kicking mud in his face, throwing a few quick punches before running off.

  Felix just layed there. He stared up at the sky, feeling the rain drops hit his face. His hands burned, blood just appearing on the surface of them. He didn’t mind. It could have been worse. Much worse. That worried him. How much worse it could get. Would get. He took this time to just stare up at the  darkening sky, letting the rain wet his face to clean off the dirt that stained his cheeks.

   The shattering of glass and the slam of the door swinging open interrupted his thoughts. Felix sat up quickly, his heart beginning to pound in his chest. He quickly pulled his hood over his head, his hands trembling, searching the ground for his switch blade.

   “James! Where are you, you little bastard!” The voice was husky and gruff. More glass shattered. Felix found the blade, quickly going back to the weeds. He tore the troubling plants from the ground, as if they were somehow going to save him for what was in store.

  A hand gripped his collar, dragging him backwards. Felix gripped the opposing wrists, stopping himself from being strangled by his own shirt. He twisted furiously, trying to break free from the strong grasp.

  “Oh man. You are in so much trouble. Should have listen to me and dug your own grave. It would make the work much easier for me.” The voice was teasing and shrud. Rat.

  “Stop! What are you doing!” Felix nearly yelled, trying to scramble to his feet while being dragged across the dirt.

  Rat laughed, tossing his head back. Felix just gave up, letting himself be dragged across the field. The house came into view. His heart pounded, legs trembling, and his hands shaking. He thought he was going to puke, which he did sometimes.

   Rat tossed him to the ground, silently chuckling to himself. Felix could feel all the eyes on him. The boys watched, peeking out the window, some brave enough to stand outside with Rat. Felix stayed on the ground, his eyes on the dirty boots in front of him.

  “Get your ass up!” A large hand grabbed the sleeve of his shirt, tearing the thin material and pulling him to his unsteady feet. Felix gripped the switchblade in his hand, the sharp metal cutting into his palm.

  Felix stared at his father, who was visibly drunk. His hair was dirty and chopped off unevenly. The man’s shirt was stained with what smelled like rum.

  “What is this.” He hissed, shoving a brown satchel into Felix’s chest. At first he was confused. Felix never carried around his satchel, only kept it hanging on the hook in the kitchen, waiting for use. But then he grew furious. It was Rat’s satchel, filled with pieces of corn, crumbs of bread, and vines of grapes.

  “That’s not mine!” Felix panicked. The large man snarled at him, snatching the bag away from him, his grip on Felix getting tighter.

  “Then whose is it!” He yelled, getting in Felix’s face. Felix’s face scrunched up. His breath smelled of sewage and liquor.

  “It’s John’s.” Felix said, less aggressively, but more scared. He balled his fists, the blade slicing deeper into his throbbing palm.

 

  The man looked back at Rat, the grin plastered onto his face that was filled with food from supper. Rat shook his head sadly like he already knew it was coming. His free hand that wasn’t possessing a chicken leg in it, raised an empty bag. It was Felix’s.

  “He said you’d say that. How are you going to tell me that that is his bag, when he has his in his hands and you don’t!” The man spat. Felix stayed silent, knowing he had already lost.

  “Well?!” He shouted, shaking Felix like a rag doll.

  The boys watched, eyes wide. Some looked sad, some looked as if they felt sorry, some just looked relieved that it wasn’t them.

  “Well, he must of tricked you.” Felix muttered, the words barely coming out.

  A bellowing laugh erupted from the man.  “Tricked me?! Give me that!”He snatched the blade from Felix’s dripping hand. He raised his arm, yelling something incoherent. His hand came down, swiping the blade across his face. Felix screamed, pulling away from the man. He fell to the ground, landing in the mud. Damn his weak knees.

  Everyone went silent. Usually he’d just hit Felix, or kick him out for the night. But this, this was something totally different. Rat’s grin disappeared. His eyes went wide, looking a bit panicked.

  Felix’s hands shot up to cover his face, his fingers trembling over the stinging cut. The ragged line started just between his eyebrows and moved down right, just missing his eye. It strayed all the way down, passing his cheekbone.

 

  “You could have blinded me!” Felix hissed, clutching his face. His hands were covered in mud, which only hurt the gash. He might just end up blind.

  “And what a shame I didn’t! You’re a bloody thief! And murderer!” The man hollered, pointing an accusing finger. “While your mother is dying in there, you’re stealing our only profit! When she dies, it’s your fault, James! This is your fault!”

  Felix crawled to his feet. He began to run back into the field. He stumbled, losing his balance. The rain and blood blurred his vision as he ran through the muddy field, pushing cornstalks from his path.

   “Run you little coward! I’ll kill you next time!” Felix barely heard the his father’s threats as his feet pounded against the wet ground, his heart drumming in his ear ,and the gash throbbing. He ran until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. He ran until he was dizzy from all the blood that spilled from his fingers and dripped down to his shirt. He ran until he felt his lungs burn in his chest.

  He stopped, more like fell, at a willow tree. He willed himself enough to crawl to the trunk and lean against it. Felix sat there, catching his breath between sobs. And he cried. He cried until there were no more tears. He cried until he felt his heart empty to nothing. He screamed and cursed God until his throat was raw. Felix screamed, cried, and thrashed, until he felt empty and hollow. Felix felt dead. Felix wanted nothing more than to be dead. He was going to die alone, scared, and pathetic. He wanted to scream and swear and cry more, but he did not have the energy to. So he sat there, falling in and out of consciousness, listening to the rain fall around him.

  Felix was utterly alone.   

  He woke up. Still at that same tree. Still tired, angry, and exhausted. But not alone. His eyes scanned the shoes in front of him. They traveled up until they met a face. The boy was staring at him, his eyes wide with what seemed like excitement. Felix mouth opened, about to give that boy a reason on why he should watch people when they are passed out. But he beat him to it.

  “Shh, you’re okay now. Just trust me.” The boy hummed, crouching down eye level to him.

   “Who are you?” Felix meant to snap, but it came out as a small squeak, his throat raw. The boy handed him a cup of water, running his hand through Felix’s dirty hair. He gave a full smile, seeming so interested in Felix.

 

  “Peter. My name is Peter Pan.” He spoke softly, running his hand down the used to be gash at Felix’s face.

  Felix flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. He expected there to be pain, but there wasn’t. He grazed his fingers over the thick scar. He gasped, continuing to feel along the line. Peter smiled, a smile that met his eyes, feeling content with his work.

  “Now what’s your name boy?”

  How did you..?” Felix  said, breathless. Peter just chuckled, sitting down indian style in front of him.

  “Magic.” He wiggled his fingers. Peter raised an eyebrow, smirking. The boy probably wouldn’t buy it, but he was being honest at least. “Now, your name.”

  “Uh, James. But not really. Uh- um, the boys called me Felix.” He stuttered. Why was he even telling him this? This boy was a stranger who claimed he was magic. Felix should be burning him at the stake right now! But for some reason, Felix trusted him. The boy is probably out of his god damned mind, but Felix feels safe and that’s all that mattered at the moment.

  “I’ll just call you Felix then. It means “Favored by luck”, and that you are.” Peter grinned, wiggling a bit. He looked happy, and excited. Oddly, it made Felix happy as well.

  “So, Felix. I’d like to propose an offer.” Peter mused, leaning in like it was a big secret he could just not bare keep to himself anymore. Felix was more than happy to listen, leaning in as well.

  “Would you like to come with me? We could runaway together. I know a land, a beautiful land, where you would never age, never become the person your father is. A land where you could do whatever you’d like without care. A land where you wouldn’t be alone.”  Peter explained, a grin plastered to his face. “It’s called Neverland.”

 

  “Neverland sounds lovely,” Felix said, giving a lipped smile. “But, my mother. She is very ill. I cannot just leave her here to die with that monster.” He finished. The very thought of that man made his mind bitter.

  Peter put his hands on Felix’s shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “If you come with me, I promise you she will be okay. I’ll do to her what I did for you. She’ll feel better than ever, up and dancing in no time. And for that ‘monster’, I’ll take care of him. he’ll be gone. No worries.” He spoke with honesty, keeping eye contact with Felix.

 

  “Prove it.” Felix pleaded , his eyes begging. Peter sighed, but nodded. He took Felix’s hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over the now scar across his palm. He liked the sudden affection.

  They appeared in his mother’s room. It was a bit of a shock to Felix, but he didn’t have time to care. He ran to his mother’s bedside, grabbing her hands in his own. He crouched down to her side, a smile not matching with his worried eyes. She ran her hand along the scar that crossed his face.

  “Oh James…” She coughed heavily, unable to form words. Peter watched sadly from the other side of the room.

  “It’s okay mother. He’s going to help you. You’ll feel better, okay? I must go though.”  Felix smiled as she ran her shaking hand through his hair like a child.

  Felix looked up at Peter as his mother struggled for air. Peter nodded, walking over to the bed. He leaned down to the dying women, just hovering over her.

  “Thank you.” He whispered, quiet enough that only she could hear. Peter softly placed his hand over her forehead. Her breathing stopped it’s ragged hitching, and smoothed out into a quiet rhythm. Her eyes slide close, and body relaxed.

  “She is well now.” Peter whispered, a tired look on his face.

  Felix sighed, a small smile lighting his face. He stood up, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

  “Now my father.” He said, his tone like ice. Peter chuckled, a bit taken back.

  “Eager are we?” Peter teased.

  “I want to do it. Just wait outside or something.” Felix said, his voice monotone. Felix took the blade from Pan’s belt and headed off into the other direction. Peter chuckled and shook his head, disappearing.

 

  Felix crept through the house, careful to not make a sound. He turned the corner, bumping straight into a hard chest.

  “I know what you want. So do it! You coward! Come on!” The man screamed at him, but didn’t move. Felix felt the anger washing over him. His nerves were shattered. He should just stab him now, and get it over with. But he couldn’t let his father have that satisfaction.

  Felix smirked, a slight chuckled came from his throat. “Oh, but I already have.”

  A confused expression scrolled across his gruff face. Then panic. His eyes shot down to the whiskey bottle. His grip loosened and it fell to the floor, shattering. Shortly after, he fell with it. The man gasped for air as his face turned blue. Felix laughed and turned on his heel, meeting Peter.

  “Wow, didn’t know you were so cunning.” Peter chuckled, observing Felix’s work. “What’d ya use?”

  Felix shrugged. “Dunno. Just got it from a friend. He said it would work. And from what I can see, it did.”

  Peter chuckled, and brought up his hand, a rat squealing between his fingers. “Well while you were busy, I took care of a rat problem. I hope you don’t mind.” He gave a devilish smile, observing the dirty creature. 

 Felix tossed his head back, laughter filling the room. “Very funny.” He took Rat from Peter’s hands and tossed him onto the dead man. Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

  “Well we can’t bring any rats with us to Neverland, now can we?” Felix smiled giving a wink.

 He reached down and laced his fingers with the taller boy’s.

 Peter grinned, “Too right.”

 

 Finally, Felix was no longer alone.

  


 


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